The Rogue Rejects' celebration was getting out of hand.
They cheered Konrad for the golem's rampage and all the new captives.
Only a few knew that the Prodigy had nothing to do with them.
Not that Stella would mind.
She preferred to stay in the shadows, doing her best to keep Nimrod under wraps.
Easier said than done.
With half the camp drunk and a skeleton crew guarding the pass, he was in his element.
Yelling, beating his chest, acting nothing like the duke of Halaima ever would. If only Welf or Bor were here. But they had to scout the mountains nonstop.
Whatever Konrad did to keep an eye on everything, Stella had to do it the old-fashioned way.
It was anything but simple when the merchants brought booze by the barrels.
"You're not drinking?" Eyna asked, the only sane and sober person in camp apart from herself.
"I was never great with alcohol," Stella sighed.
The truth was, with all those voices and the pent-up stress of her new leadership role—
She might have turned everyone into zombies in an ice cage if she had gotten drunk.
"Where did all this beer and wine come from anyway?" she asked. The Rogue Rejects were almost swimming in it. "Didn't the Prodigy keep saying that Halaima is broke?"
"It was," Eyna nodded, settling down by her side. "But as it turns out—war is profitable."
She played with her purplish-silver hair, flashing smiles at everyone passing by.
It felt a little forced, but people were too intoxicated to notice.
This dark-skinned girl was a great host.
Stella's exact opposite. Always quiet, feminine, smart—calculating.
"Master sold the spoils of war to merchants and neighboring nobles," she explained. "Little by little, to keep the prices high. He struck a pretty good deal right when the king returned."
"Ah," Stella pondered. "And then von Kasserlane messed up everything."
That was when chaos with the two dragons and Gabrielle broke out.
Then, the duel with the Demon Lord himself.
Now the Prodigy was gone, with his useless twin and Stella to run his business.
"I wouldn't say that," Eyna smirked, flipping a gold coin between her fingers. "I was dealing with the Kitsune Trading Company for the most part, even when Master was still here."
"Kitsune?" she asked, catching the coin when the purple-eyed girl dropped it on the table.
"I guess you missed the part when he organised the merchants against the Church."
She gave her a quick rundown of how Konrad minted his own coins and made deals with every peddler in Halaima. That's the Prodigy of Haiten for you. Stella had no idea all this time.
"And with you capturing a lot more nomads again, we have their loot to sell," she summed up.
"Couldn't we hire mercenaries, then?" the former nun asked, perking up. That would have eased the insane disparity in numbers. "How much money are we talking about?"
"Don't think of a fortune," Eyna said, lowering her voice. "Enough to pay for the food and tax."
"Then why—"
"Why are we letting everyone get drunk?" She looked over the celebrating soldiers. Full of scars, looking tired. But they still enjoyed this little respite. "Morale is everything. They deserve it."
Fair's fair.
They didn't waver even against overwhelming odds. Nimrod's golem alone couldn't have won the battle. And who knew how many more they were about to face.
"All the more reason to hire mercenaries," Stella noted.
But Eyna shook her head.
"We need loyalty," she whispered. "Especially you—a single betrayal would be enough for everything to go south. Sorry to say this, but you don't have the charisma to lead mercs."
The former executioner's mouth hung open at those words, but she couldn't argue.
She mentioned hired blades because that's what Otto Ostfeld did.
But he was a powerful man—on the surface.
How odd. She could have destroyed him at any moment, but she didn't have the will. Otto kept everyone in his palm, but he was nothing under that surface.
And with her being the opposite, trying her best not to stand out or show her real power—
"Yeah. Mercenaries seem like a bad idea," Stella admitted. "Wish the Prodigy returned soon."
***
"Let me get this straight," Kaede grumbled, taking a menacing step towards him. "You spent a hundred mana on healing me. Five points to get here, and five to buy this booze."
Konrad gulped.
Despite all the hospital setting and her burns, that girl seemed way too healthy now.
Not the thanks he expected, but—
"Correct," he noted, inching away. "Hundred and ten in total." No use.
"All that, because a bottle of sake helped you regenerate two—TWO—mana points."
When she put it that way—
"I took one sip, and recovered two in an hour," Konrad corrected. Never mind that his one sip was huge and a lot more happened at those moments. "A litre could recover ten. I guess."
"You guess," the dragoness sighed. "Thought you were Haiten's Prodigy. You know, don't guess."
"Well, if it weren't a one-time thing," he gave her a rundown. "It'd take a hundred litres to recover everything. Then we could return to Kasserlane. Without it, I couldn't, so—"
"If? A hundred litres?!" Kaede repeated. "You don't see any problem here?"
Problem? He had already run the maths, but—tipsy as he was, he might have missed key details.
Like, didn't consider human physiology.
"If I were in my dragon form, I could drink a hundred litres. But you?!" the girl argued. "Even if I drank it instead, then transfer all the mana—do you have any idea how expensive sake is?!"
"Of course I know," Konrad scoffed. "I bought that bottle, too."
Three thousand yen for 720ml.
The hundred thousand Kaede gave him could have covered a quarter of the full amount.
Too bad he already spent half the money, and she still couldn't work.
"It'd take some time, but it's better than not having any recharge, right?" Konrad muttered.
The dragoness rolled her eyes, flicking the cap off the bottle.
"If this doesn't work, I'll shift and eat you," she claimed, taking a long sip without warning.
"W-wait, I'm the one who needs the mana," he mumbled, but couldn't take the bottle back.
"Well, you brought it here, so it's mine now," Kaede grunted, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. "I stayed clear of booze in this shape, but—the spirits know I needed this."
She looked at the bottle, disappointment written all over her face, then took another swig.
"I never knew sake was this weak. It does nothing to me," she complained. "And when should the mana recharge start? I'm still empty after I healed myself."
Konrad yanked the bottle away, keeping it behind his back.
"It started right away for me," he claimed, feeling the liquid slosh around.
Two sips. She inhaled half of it.
It couldn't—not—work. He didn't imagine it.
"Nothing on my end," Kaede said, dropping herself on her bed. "You try it then."
Konrad's hand was shaking.
It had to do something. He peeked into the bottle, scared that it was all a dream, and—
The moment the liquid touched his lips, the faint buzzing in his veins started anew.